


Gift Wrapped

by coldishcase



Series: Tumblr Prompts [13]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Crying, Cum Eating, Dom Anakin, Feelings, Fix-It, Lingerie, M/M, Mostly Porn Without Plot, Semi-Public Sex, Sub Obi-Wan, Subobi, Tumblr Prompt, art included, bottom obi-wan, but everything is okay, council chamber sex, established obikin, lots of feelings, prompt, the tiniest bit of plot, top anakin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:14:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26082526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coldishcase/pseuds/coldishcase
Summary: (also known as the lingerie fic)Anakin opens the attached holoimage, and his eyes widen a little at the still. Obi-Wan has taken... a selfie. Complete with stereotypical pouty lips and wink, but that's not the really shocking part.His normally prudish Master has tugged aside his tabard, under which he is notablynotwearing an undertunic. From this angle Anakin can glimpse thin, rose-red straps just peeking out from under the tunic, hugging his shoulder and collarbone before disappearing into the shadows under his tunics.He's stunned, staring for another long moment before he dumbly taps out his response.[ you're going to a council meeting like that??? ]><[ don't be late ;) ]
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker, Obikin - Relationship
Series: Tumblr Prompts [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1853428
Comments: 28
Kudos: 197





	Gift Wrapped

**Author's Note:**

  * For [amidnightlove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amidnightlove/gifts).



> anonymous/amidnightlove asked:
> 
> obikin, bottom obi-wan, doing it in the council's chambers

Anakin's commlink beeps in the short sequence that indicates it is Obi-Wan messaging him. His Master programmed it in, and Anakin only just found out a few days ago that it's Morse code for "dear one".

He never had Obi-Wan pegged as the sappy, romantic type. Not until they started dating, that is.

His former Master is subtle about it, of course... but he's just as romantically inclined as Anakin is. More so, in some ways. Each day they're together, he feels he learns something new, he starts to understand his partner better.

Anakin is never quite sure if today is going to be a day when Obi-Wan spends all their time together dutifully keeping his distance, only to show up in his apartment at night to make tea and share a bed with him; or if today will be a day when Obi-Wan can't keep his hands to himself, dragging Anakin into every storage closet and secret passage they cross just to get a taste of his lips.

Each day is different and new and wonderful, the two of them perpetually keeping each other on their toes, exactly how Anakin wants it to be. As a lover, Obi-Wan is never boring, never dull. He's _perfect_.

A perfect Jedi, a perfect boyfriend. A perfect contradiction. Anakin knows he is thoroughly ruined for anyone else; not that he could imagine a day when he and Obi-Wan ceased to be joined at the hip.

The message on his commlink makes him smile and roll his eyes.

**Message from - Hobi-Wan:**

_[ _don't forget you've been asked to join a council meeting today, dear. You best arrive on time, or I won't let you see what I'm wearing under my robes._ ]

His reply is tapped out quickly and sent.

[ _I've seen your boxers before, old man._ ]_

_[ _do these look like boxers to you?_ ]

_[ **rude.hlo** ]

  


Anakin opens the attached holoimage, and his eyes widen a little at the still. Obi-Wan has taken... a _selfie_. Complete with stereotypical pouty lips and wink, but that's not the _really_ shocking part.

His normally prudish Master has tugged aside his tabard, under which he is notably _not_ wearing an undertunic. From this angle Anakin can glimpse thin, rose-red straps just peeking out from under the tunic, hugging his shoulder and collarbone before disappearing into the shadows under his tunics.

He's stunned, staring for another long moment before he dumbly taps out his response.

[ _you're going to a council meeting like that???_ ]>

<[ _don't be late ;)_ ]

Anakin stares at the message for a second before sitting down on his couch in a daze.

No, Obi-Wan is never boring.

 _"Kriff me,"_ he exhales, with feeling.

What time is it?

He checks the cron, then curses under his breath as he sees the time. Fifteen minutes until the meeting starts.

Well, he better not be late.

Anakin grabs his 'saber and checks himself in the mirror, then hurries out of his apartment, knowing he'll make it with some time to spare if he speed walks.

°|●.*•

Anakin was asked to this meeting because he and his domino squad are the best choice for this mission. He's supposed to be paying attention, giving suggestions...

But his head is void of _anything_ intelligent.

It's like Obi-Wan is _trying_ to make it impossible for him to keep his focus. His former Master isn't doing anything _particularly_ attention-drawing. But each little shift in his seat, each little roll of his shoulders and adjustment of his tunics and belt draws Anakin's eye.

He's staring again as Obi-Wan has his hand dipped just under the edge of his collar, subtly massaging his shoulder-- or more likely, fiddling with one of the straps of his damn _lingerie_.

"Knight Skywalker?" Mace's voice cuts through the vivid image playing in his mind like a bucket of cold water dumped over his head.

And then Obi-Wan, smug as you like, smiles knowingly at him. "Anakin, you seem a bit distracted today."

Oh, he is gonna enjoy wiping that look off his face.

Obi-Wan _absolutely_ knows what he is doing. He’s doing it _on purpose_.

How does he think this is gonna play out? Is he trying to get Anakin to embarrass himself in front of the Council? Is this a test??

Well, Anakin isn’t gonna let him win, not this time.

He puts on his best apologetic smile, and he wings it. “Yeah, uh. Sorry, I am. No promises, but this mission might actually have me thinking ahead for once.” He jokes, turning on the charm he learned from his Master. He actually gets a chuckle or two. “I am sorry. I missed your question, Master Windu, what was it?”

Anakin wants to stay mad at Obi-Wan, but it’s pretty hard when hi ( _still_ smug) partner is looking over at him with no small amount of pride. Maybe this _is_ a test. Hopefully he’s passing, because he _definitely_ wants his reward.

Mace asks his question again, and Anakin pays attention this time, and has an answer for him. Anakin doesn’t lose focus again, and the rest of the meeting goes smoothly.

°|●.*•

“Where do you think you’re going?” Anakin hisses in Obi-Wan’s ear.

The elder Jedi stops, held back by Anakin’s hand on his upper arm. He feigns confusion, even though they’re the last ones leaving and none of the Council Members are paying them any mind.

“Er, my rooms of course. Care to join me for the walk, Padawan?”

Anakin tugs him back, keeping him from exiting the Council Chamber with a mechanical grip on his elbow. "Not this time, Obi-Wan." He grins a little to himself, waving a hand and causing the doors to shut themselves.

Anakin's implication sets in, and Obi-Wan starts to look nervous. "Anakin, love, we can't... we _can't_. Not here."

"We can," Anakin insists. "As long as we keep those doors closed. There's no more council meetings today, and nobody would dare come in here for any other reason." and the room is sound-proofed, but he doesn't need to tell Obi-Wan that.

Against his better judgement, Obi-Wan allows himself to be lead back towards his seat. "Anakin..."

"No, Obi-Wan," said Jedi starts firmly, seating himself in Obi-Wan's place on the council and dragging his former Master down with him. It takes some manhandling, but he gets Obi-Wan to straddle his lap. "You started this. You don't get to tease me for an entire meeting and then make me wait."

Obi-Wan glances at the doors. He's tense, nervous. "Someone could walk in, it's too risky..."

At that, Anakin cocks a brow. "Riskier than wearing _this_ ," he pulls aside Obi-Wan's loose tabard to run his thumb under one blood red strap, lifting it up enough to let it snap back into place against Obi-Wan's skin, "under your robes _in front of the Council?_ Riskier than messing with it the whole time just to rile me up? No one is here, Master, we won't be caught so long as you're quiet."

Anyways, he doesn't think this will last very long, he's been half-hard since Obi-Wan texted him that holopic.

Obi-Wan doesn't have much of an argument to that. And he'd be lying if he said the risk of being caught didn't arouse him; the thought turns him on equally as much as it frightens him.

"Alright," the elder Jedi concedes, taking his eyes off the doors and facing his partner. "And, just, to clear one thing up... I wasn't fidgeting _only_ to rile you." His face is a bit flushed as he makes his point. "I should have tried this on to adjust it before wearing it in public-- the straps ride up in... uncomfortable places."

A predatory sound leaves Anakin's throat at the admission. His hands drop to Obi-Wan's ass, feeing the strappy lingerie through the thin fabric.

"Show me," he demands, eyes dark. "Strip, Obi-Wan."

He can feel the shiver that runs down his Master's spine at his tone. Clearly, Obi-Wan wants it rough today-- and well, Anakin is _more_ than happy to deliver.

Without a word, his partner obeys, making quick work of his obi. It thunks to the floor with his lightsaber.

Before Anakin can think about making a snarky comment regarding that, Obi-Wan is pulling off his tabard and loose tunic, revealing the top half of his body.

It turns out he hasn't actually fastened all of the Lingerie on-- there's a loose ribbon hanging from a ring at the center of his chest, and at the end of it is a collar.

Obi-Wan reaches for it to put it into place-- he of course couldn't have it on earlier, it would have shown over the neckline of his tunic.

Anakin’s hand stops him without conscious thought-- moving as if possessed.

"I'll do it," he hears himself say, and Obi-Wan's hand drops with a quiet nod.

His fingers tingle as he holds the ribbon to Obi-Wan's neck, pulling the thin, silky fabric taut and fastening the clip at the nape of his neck.

He helps Obi-Wan adjust a few straps so he's more comfortable, his fingers deftly loosening and tightening until his partner is satisfied.

That done, he leans back in Obi-Wan's council seat to admire the gorgeous man on his lap. Obi-Wan thankfully isn't shy, he lifts his chin to expose the column of his neck-- Anakin's eyes follow the collar down to the brassiere part of this lingerie-- it does absolutely nothing to cover Obi-Wan up, thin straps just linked together by rings to accentuate the curves of his chest. Lace is pulled taut between the straps, framing his peaked nipples as the exposure to cold air turns them hard.

Obi-Wan still has his trousers on, but they don't cover everything. His hips jut out, blood red lace hugging them tight. Garter straps lead down, under the waistband of his pants enticingly.

“Enjoying the view?” Obi-Wan asks, his voice lower than usual. Anakin isn't the only one affected by this already, it seems.

"Always," Anakin responds, dragging him down for a kiss by the center strap, the one hooked to Obi-Wan's collar.

The older man lets out a gasp before his lips are claimed. His arms go around Anakin's shoulders, fists bunching in the thick fabric of his robes.

They kiss like drowning men, as if they're desperate for air, for each other. Anakin may have initiated the kiss, but Obi-Wan quickly takes charge of it, controlling the pace as he lifts his hips and lets Anakin work his trousers down past his thighs.

They break away then, gasping, and Obi-Wan fluidly moves off Anakin's lap. Just momentarily to kick off his boots and strip down his pants until he and his lingerie are fully exposed.

Anakin's eyes darken at the sight; Obi-Wan makes sure to give him a good look at it all-- at the pair of straps clinging to his hipbones, at the red stockings held up by the garters, in a more lewd mockery of his signature red boots.

The lingerie frames his half-hard cock, which bobs between his thighs, caged in by red straps and lace. He has a nice dick, thicker than Anakin's and with good length, though not quite as long. He wonders how it would feel, but Obi-Wan won't let him do anything more than suck it for him-- something about imbalanced power dynamics, and not wanting that to carry over into their relationship.

Anakin thinks it's all rather contrived, but if Obi-Wan would rather be on the receiving end than the giving, well. He's not going to complain. Obi-Wan's ass is even nicer than his cock, always a tight channel for him to sink into, with perfectly shaped, toned asscheeks for him to grip.

Anakin's ogling is cut short when Obi-Wan settles back on his thighs, straddling his lap once more. The Jedi is smiling roguishly at him, teeth flashing as he reaches behind himself for... something.

His face twists slightly, and then there's a slick sound as his back arches. Then he's holding up a simple silicone plug victoriously, and setting it aside with a grin. "I didn't think you'd have much patience."

"You were right," Anakin tells him breathlessly, pupils dilated as he imagines Obi-Wan fingering himself open-- for _him_. Wearing this sinful lingerie and thinking of _Anakin_ while he has his fingers buried within himself.

It's enough to make his cock throb painfully in his pants.

"Then why are you still dressed?" Obi-Wan asks him with no small amount of cheek.

Any self restraint Anakin had is gone in an instant. He hauls Obi-Wan up by his thighs, standing and turning to drop his former master back on his own council seat.

Obi-Wan gives a small huff of surprise as he falls onto the awkward chair, but doesn't complain. He just helps position himself better, anticipating what Anakin wants.

Anakin doesn't bother getting fully undressed. He shoves his pants and boxers down enough to expose his cock, and then kneels against the edge of the council seat, pulling Obi-Wan's legs apart to expose his slicked and stretched hole.

The younger Jedi takes a moment to enjoy the view, then looks up at Obi-Wan's face to find blown, dark pupils ringed by a thin halo of grey-blue.

Anakin bends down to kiss him again, to silently thank him for this, for such an unexpected and delicious gift. Obi-Wan's lips readily meet and accept his, eagerly pushing and pulling but letting Anakin control the pace this time. His urgency shows in the way he sucks on Anakin's lower lip and nips lightly at Anakin's upper lip.

the younger Jedi pulls away smiling, taking a second to admire the mostly-bare body at his mercy. Obi-Wan's pale, toned skin, broken occasionally by scars from hard-won battles. The rose-red straps draw his eyes away from the minute blemishes, giving Obi-Wan an almost doll-like appearance. His skin looks like perfect, crafted porcelain wrapped in ribbons of red.

He's beautiful.

Anakin can't quite help but notice that-- though they haven't exactly discussed lingerie before-- this doesn't look like something Obi-Wan would have bought for himself. If Obi-Wan simply owned any for his own tastes, it would probably be more tasteful and understated than this-- this set is clearly designed to display his body, to draw attention to and exaggerate his curves and his lean muscles. It frames in his nipples and cock, drawing attention to them in a way that _screams_ sex.

It's not something Obi-Wan would own for himself, which tells him that his partner picked this out specifically with him in mind. And he made a good choice, as this is _exactly_ to Anakin's tastes.

And he almost thought he couldn't love this man any more than he already did.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan's voice rings, eyes shining playfully. "The longer you wait, the higher chance there is we'll be caught."

And, that's a really polite way to tell him to fuck him already.

Too polite.

"Tell me how you want it," Anakin demands, hiking up one of Obi-Wan’s legs and lining up his cock. He has a pretty good idea, considering everything Obi-Wan has done to rile him up.

Obi-Wan groans, biting down on the inside of his cheek as he feels the cockhead pressing against his entrance. “I just-- want you, Anakin.”

The younger hums, pressing in just a little and enjoying the tight, slick wetness inside. Obi-Wan never stretches himself quite as much as Anakin would, but he knows his partner just likes the burn.

A cut-off moan leaves his former Master, stockinged legs falling further apart as he tries to stay quiet.

He’s biting his lip so he doesn’t make a sound, which is silly, considering the Council Chambers are soundproofed anyways to avoid eavesdropping. Obi-Wan _knows_ that.

Anakin reaches up, using the pad of his human thumb to gently pull Obi-Wan's lip away from his teeth. The older man allows it, but looks a little displeased.

It’s... almost like he wants to be punished for something... though Anakin has no clue what that could be; Obi-Wan hasn’t done anything to upset him recently. He hasn’t even had a botched mission lately, he’s as much of the Council’s golden boy as always.

(funny, considering how he lets the Council’s least favorite Knight fuck him on the regular.)

Obi-Wan's brief frown disappears, and then he's pushing his hips back, trying to get Anakin inside him.

"Why did you stop?" He asks, almost pouting up at Anakin. The cute expression clears Anakin’s mind of his worries.

Anakin looks down at him, his beautiful Master all wrapped up for him in red silk straps, like a life day present just for him. “I thought you ‘just wanted me’?” He responds a little cheekily, leaning down to peck the other man’s lips. “What if I wanna take it slow, and enjoy my reward?”

As he slides in just another inch, little by little, Obi-Wan’s face twists with pleasure and impatience. “ _Ahn_ akin... please...” He responds, whining a bit as he’s filled a little more, but not enough to be truly satisfying.

The younger smirks, staying still. “Oh? That’s not what you want? Please _what_ , Master?”

Obi-Wan groans a bit at that, the way he always does when Anakin calls him ‘Master’ during these encounters. He doesn’t do it often-- he knows it makes Obi-Wan feel weird, but the reaction he gets when he does is always satisfying.

the little glare that’s not-quite-angry but not-quite-teasing either is gratifying to see. Obi-Wan finds the strength to regain his composure enough to speak, even with Anakin half sheathed inside him. “You _know_ what I want, you arse.”

Anakin doesn’t move, giving his partner a playful frown. “Maybe I do, but maybe I don’t.” His blue eyes glint in the light. “You’ll just have to use your words and tell me, old man.”

The sounds Obi-Wan make is neither dignified nor patient. “Gods, Anakin. Just _fuck_ me already.”

Anakin hums, and decides to reward the answer by sliding in all the way. He takes his time though, making sure Obi-Wan feels every inch of him pressing inside his slicked, tight heat. “Fuck you how? Like this?” he asks, sliding back out halfway and thrusting in slow and deep.

Obi-Wan groans, head lolling back a little. “ _gods_ \-- no, fuck, Anakin...”

the younger of the two smirks, thrusting in a bit harder, but still shallow. “Then how, _Master_?”

The ginger gives a strangled noise, his thighs spasming under the silk straps.

It’s rare that Anakin can make Obi-Wan say such vulgar things, but it’s clear that his partner wants him a specific sort of way right now, and Anakin enjoys teasing it out of him.

“Fuck me like you _mean it_ , Anakin.”

“I _do_ mean it.”

This seems to be Obi-Wan’s breaking point, his nails digging into the edges of the council seat as he starts to say what he really wants.

“ _Harder_ , Anakin.” The man arches his back, and Anakin’s eyes are drawn to the rosy peaks of his nipples, framed in the lingerie. “I want you to fuck me like you’re trying to break me. I want to be fucked so hard I can’t walk-- I want to be _carried_ out of this room. I want to have to use sick time because my arse hurts too much to sit, I--” Obi-Wan cuts off as Anakin loses his own self control, snapping his hips forward.

“Ah-”

“How’s _this_?”

“Fuck-” Obi-Wan’s eyes roll back as Anakin starts fucking him in earnest, hips pistoning like a machine, the sound of his balls slapping against skin echoing around the high-ceilinged chamber. “- _yes,_ gods, yes, _Ahnakin.”_

The encouragement speeds Anakin on, fucking into Obi-Wan hard enough that his partner needs to hold onto the seat; lest Anakin unintentionally shove him over the back. The Jedi Master’s eyes roll back, mouth hanging open with his helpless gasps as Anakin meets his demands.

It doesn’t last as long as Anakin wants it to-- he’s been keyed up since even before the council meeting, half-hard in his pants thinking about Obi-Wan’s teasing selfie.

Anakin comes embarrassingly soon, bowing over Obi-Wan and holding him close as he spills into his hole. The older Jedi half-whimpers as he does, and Anakin can feel the heated flesh of his still-hard member trapped between their stomachs. He didn’t come...

That’s fine. He can wait, Anakin isn’t done with him yet.

as he lets himself recover a bit from the burst of exertion, Anakin mouths over Obi-Wan’s chest, letting his tongue follow along the silky straps indenting his old Master’s skin.

For his part, Obi-Wan doesn’t seem to be very talkative anymore, just gasping softly as Anakin gives his nipples some attention, licking and nipping at them until they peak up and harden in the breeze from the windows, glistening with his saliva.

He responds so beautifully, not holding back. They’re alone and together, and Obi-Wan hides nothing from him. He sprawls on his council seat, fairly relaxed with Anakin’s soft cock and seed still filling him up, all while his lover plays with the lace and straps stretched over his pale, freckled skin like a silk web. The dark scarlet fabric stands out beautifully against his skin, pale as it is from so much time spent in space travel, away from starlight. It makes his freckles more prominent, and Anakin spends a little time tracing his fingers along the little constellations they form on Obi-Wan’s clavicle.

Before long, his Master grows impatient enough to reach down to try to finish himself off, and Anakin catches his wrist.

He tsks. “You won’t need that.”

A noise of protest leaves his partner as Anakin pulls out of him finally, and moves down onto the floor.

His partner, his lover. (How he _wishes_ he could call Obi-Wan his husband-- but he refused to marry him in secret. On the bright side, Obi-Wan promised him a public wedding once the war is ended and they can leave the Order without abandoning the Republic when it needs them. Anakin was swayed when Obi-Wan reminded him that they could invite Ahsoka and Rex and Cody and in fact, all of their friends amongst the clones and the Jedi and the Senators. He also may have promised they could both wear extravagant Naboo wedding gowns, but the jury is still out on whether he was serious about that or not.)

a smile forms on his lips at these thoughts as Anakin kneels between Obi-Wan’s legs, readjusting his grip on his future husband’s thighs.

Obi-Wan seems to realize what Anakin plans to do just seconds before he does it, and he tenses up-- out of anticipation or something else, Anakin can’t tell.

Whatever the case, an embarrassed moan leaves him as Anakin dives in, licking up the cum that’s begun to spill out of his entrance, lapping up the taste of his own seed mixed with lube.

He knows well the exact shade of red Obi-Wan’s face gets when he does this. His master finds it equal parts embarrassing and pleasurable, which Anakin can feel in the way his hips stutter as they try to push against his face, trying to get his tongue on his hole, _in_ his hole.

Anakin happily obliges, licking deep into that wet warmth. With a little rush of affection, he realizes that Obi-Wan used flavored lube-- either he was just feeling like it, or he knows Anakin too well.

The salty taste of his own seed mixes pleasantly the tangy flavor Obi-Wan has chosen this time-- he thinks he detects hints of lime and aquamelon. The clean, tangy flavor complements the sharper saltiness of his cum, making it... actually taste _good_.

Once he gets that first taste, Anakin can't be stopped. His mismatched hands get firm grips on his partner's ass, spreading his cheeks wide. As Obi-Wan's hole widens as well, the viscous mixture of come and lube leaks out.

Anakin wishes he had a holo of this.

In fact, he would probably take one if he didn't feel so ravenous.

Obi-Wan's moans and gasps are music to his ears as he dives back in, lapping up every drop of his own seed and the flavored lube that he can. It's addictive, the taste lighting up his taste buds with every lick.

Soon his teeth are grazing the rim of Obi-Wan's hole in his effort to get deeper, and that's when Obi-Wan hits his limit.

There's no warning, his lover is a too far gone for words. Anakin is fine with that-- the Way his old Master's ass clenches and the way his body seizes up is telling enough. He pulls away to watch, his eyes shadowed with lust at the way Obi-Wan climaxes, untouched and overstimulated.

He's beautiful, his back arched in ecstasy, the veins in his throat popping out on his neck as he wordlessly shouts. His cock jerks, shooting ropes of white cum over his own thighs and chest.

As Obi-Wan slumps, nearly spent, Anakin sits up on his knees, moving in closer. The cum is streaked over skin and silk alike, ropes of white crisscrossing pale pink and blood red. Gods above, he looks like a work of art.

His own cock twitches with interest, not down for the count just yet.

"Feeling good, Obi-Wan?"

The answer he gets is an enthusiastic hum of the affirmative. It makes him smile, knowing _he_ did that. He caused his Master to be this blissed out, too content for words.

Words are Obi-Wan's craft, his weapon. He puts them away when he doesn't need them.

It used to worry Anakin, but now he knows better. Obi-Wan's nonverbal moments are a sign of trust, a show that he knows he'll be understood and cared for without needing to tell Anakin.

The younger Jedi can't help but smile at his soft, tired Master. He sends a nudge of warmth through their bond, which is quickly relayed back.

“Good,” Anakin intones, giving his cock a languid stroke. He’s already halfway back to hardness just from eating Obi-Wan out-- the blessings of being young. “Ready for round two, then?”

That gets his Master to look more awake, the older man lifting his head an inch to peek a dubious eye down at his former Padawan. He still doesn’t speak, he doesn’t need to.

Anakin watches the way Obi-Wan glances down at his half-hard length and then briefly throws his gaze skyward. He doesn’t protest, really, Obi-Wan just shows a little exasperation as he tries to find a more comfortable position. Anakin likes it that way, anyways.

It’s an easy slide back into Obi-Wan’s wet channel, the pleasurable feeling amplified on his still half-softened cock. Obi-Wan lets out a little moan, but his cock stays laying soft against his own belly as Anakin drives into him, with little resistance. He’s not likely to get it up again, but he _did_ ask to be used.

Obi-Wan never minds when Anakin wants to keep going, even if he sometimes runs out of energy before his partner does. It’s part of why Anakin loves him so much-- he doesn’t deny Anakin more pleasure, even when he’s reached his own limits.

With the intensely pleasurable way that Obi-Wan’s hole squeezes around Anakin’s cock, it doesn’t take long for him to fatten back up to full hardness inside him. Anakin keeps his pace slower this time, steadily thrusting his full length in and out of his former Master’s accepting hole.

He’s taking his time now, leaning over Obi-Wan to mouth along his collarbone, to catch the taut red straps under his tongue. He’s like a gift, so pretty in his perfect packaging.

A little whimper sounds from above him as he licks one peaked nipple with the flat of his tongue, then blows over it to further harden the sensitive nub. A hand comes up to his hair, fingers tangling in his somewhat unruly locks.

It puts a smile on his lips, a smile which he presses against Obi-Wan’s breast as the other man briefly struggles between using the grip in his hair to pull Anakin away or draw him in closer. After a moment of indecision, Obi-Wan’s hand goes mostly lax, fingers just staying tangled lightly in his hair, present but not commanding.

Anakin gives him a particularly hard thrust in response, causing the older man’s fingers to tighten.

The younger Jedi rests his chin on Obi-Wan’s chest, going still for a moment as he looks up at his old Master’s face, tight with the pleasure Anakin is wringing out of him. “I love you,” he declares, loud in the emptiness of the room.

Obi-Wan’s eyes find his, warmth showing in his gaze. He may not be feeling up to speaking much, but he never fails to respond in kind when Anakin gets like this. “And I you, my dear.” He returns softly, those fingers gently petting Anakin’s hair.

Anakin smiles brightly, leaning up to give his partner a quick peck before he resumes his efforts, driving into that tight, wet heat at a leisurely pace. He’s more following than he is chasing his pleasure, just enjoying the relaxed nature of this lovemaking. He knows Obi-Wan wants it a bit rougher right now, but he can’t quite bring himself to, not when his future husband looks so pretty, so fragile all dressed up like this for him.

And in any case, he isn’t eager to leave. He’s dreamt about having Obi-Wan here, in these very chambers. Now that he finally is, he wants to enjoy the risque nature of it; no sense in rushing what might be his one opportunity to have Obi-Wan here, on his own council seat.

He hopes that whenever Obi-Wan sits on the Council from now on, he thinks of this afternoon, of Anakin lazily fucking into him to his heart’s content.

Anakin keeps going, keeps driving his hips into Obi-Wan's tightness, enjoying the slick slide of their flesh as he chases his own climax a little more enthusiastically. It doesn't take him much longer to come again, his hips growing erratic until they halt, pressed flush to Obi-Wan as he releases inside him again. He stays buried inside that warm channel, wanting to feel connected to his lover for a little longer.

Obi-Wan doesn't protest, just continuing to play with his hair while Anakin lays on top of him, panting softly against his neck, nosing against the silk collar encircling it.

“You’re gorgeous like this,” he eventually states, rolling his aching hips in time to Obi-Wan’s tired petting of his hair. “And it’s not just the lingerie,” he clarifies, lifting his head to see the glint in Obi-Wan’s eye.

His Master stays quiet, letting him talk. “You’re relaxed... I like seeing you relaxed, happy. I don’t see it enough,” Anakin admits, his hips going still again to preserve his oversensitive cock as he watches Obi-Wan’s flushed face. His Master is always flustered by compliments, and now is no exception.

“Someday,” Anakin continues, bending down to nuzzle lovingly along the underside of Obi-Wan’s jaw, “Someday, after the war is over, you’ll be able to relax more. I can help you relax, every day. We can be like this whenever we want, we’ll have a home, and we’ll have each other in every room of it, whenever we want, however we want.”

He imagines it, having a small house to themselves, somewhere nice, pretty. Somewhere like Alderaan or Naboo or Scarif. Somewhere they can retire, where they can spend their days with each other, where their most pressing missions have to do with housekeeping and paying bills.

Somewhere that they don’t have to be the Negotiator and the Hero with no Fear anymore. Where he doesn’t have to be the Chosen One, where they can just be Obi-Wan and Anakin and nothing more or less.

The older Jedi is coming a bit more back to himself, enough to speak, as he does now. “Every day? You will tire of me too quickly, Anakin,” he teases, as if that’s even a possibility.

“Never,” the younger man promises him, distinctly un-Jedi-like passion in his voice. “I’ll never be tired of you,” He promises, lifting his head to meet Obi-Wan’s fragile gaze. “You’re everything to me, Obi-Wan... _everything_.” It’s not an exaggeration, either. Obi-Wan is an older brother, a teacher, his best friend, his trusted confidant, and a lover, all wrapped up in one beautiful person. Anakin can’t think of a single other being in the whole Galaxy who even comes close to comparing.

Attachment is forbidden, but Anakin is attached anyways, deeply and irrevocably attached to this wonderful, amazing man.

“You’re the first person I want to see every morning,” Anakin continues, not done expressing his love. “You’re the last one I want to see before I sleep. You’re the most important person to me, Obi-Wan... if anything happened to you... I don’t know what I would do.” And that scares him, truly. What lengths would he go to to save or avenge his Master? He hopes he never has to find out. “I love you, so much... I never want to live without you.”

He notices tears in Obi-Wan’s eyes then, a small flutter of panic rising in his chest as they collect at the corners of his eyes; dampening his coppery eyelashes. 

“Obi-Wan...?” Anakin's brain stutters at the sight; he reaches up for his Master’s face as the older man turns away from his hand, letting out a choked sound. It’s a sob, Anakin realizes with a new wave of worry.

His partner shakes his head, fingers trembling, still in Anakin’s hair. “I'm okay,” he murmurs, eyes shut.

Anakin doesn’t believe it, pulling out of Obi-Wan and carefully lifting his Master up from his place. “What’s wrong?” he asks, sitting on the seat and pulling his mostly-naked Master into his lap, where he can wrap his arms tight around him. “Was it too much?”

Obi-Wan doesn’t seem to have an answer right away, but he at least doesn’t hesitate to curl up against Anakin’s chest and seek comfort from him. Anakin thinks he was right to stop; Obi-Wan has been acting a little strange, there’s clearly something he isn’t telling Anakin, and whatever it is, it’s overwhelming him.

Anakin waits, knowing that he can’t pressure an answer out of Obi-Wan. His Master is as stubborn as he is... if he wants to tell Anakin, he will. Demanding answers will do Anakin no good.

So, he waits, rubbing little circles into Obi-Wan’s back, feeling the thin ridges of old scars there. Usually the Healing halls are good enough to prevent scarring completely... but Anakin knows that there are a few times his Master was unable to get to a Healer before his wounds scarred-- in the slave mines of Kadavo, for one. His two months of torture under Ventress’ care on Rattatak, for another. He’s heard about ‘old Bandomeer injuries’ a few times, but his Master never explains that one when he asks.

Obi-Wan tries to speak a few times, but all that seems to come out when he opens his mouth are choked, swallowed down sobs. They’re small, ashamed noises, and Anakin wishes he could take away whatever pain is afflicting his lover.

He can’t, but he can at least, be here for him and hold him through it.

The tiny sobs reach a crescendo, then turn into hiccups, Obi-Wan’s face buried in Anakin’s shoulder. The younger Jedi gently pets his coppery hair, pulling Obi-Wan back a little. “What is it...?” He asks again gently, now that Obi-Wan seems to be on the recovery. “Did I say something to upset you?” He knows that his kind of passion doesn’t come as easily to Obi-Wan as it does to him, and he’s aware that he can be... overwhelming.

Obi-Wan is of course, no less committed for it, he just shows his love differently than Anakin does.

The older Jedi shakes his head, reaching up to swipe at his face. Anakin stops him, holding his wrist with his prosthetic hand while his human hand comes up to gently brush away Obi-Wan’s tears.

“I- I can’t...”

“It’s okay,” Anakin soothes, voice low. “take your time.”

Obi-Wan’s gaze falls, eyes shining with new tears. “I can’t do this,” he whispers, voice tight.

Anakin’s heart seizes in his chest. He can’t do... this? Is Obi-Wan rejecting him? Is he ending their relationship?

As if Obi-Wan can sense his sudden panic-- and he probably can, Anakin’s shields have never hid anything from Obi-Wan-- those sea-grey eyes snap back up to find his.

“No- not-”

“You’re breaking up with me?” Anakin asks, heart in his throat.

Obi-Wan can’t shake his head fast enough. “Never, Anakin- _never._ You’ll grow bored of me long before I ever stop loving you.”

Anakin feels like he can breathe again, and yet simultaneously it feels as if his breath has been snatched away. It’s so rare for him to get a sweeping declaration of love like this from Obi-Wan...

“Then what can’t you do?” He asks, attempting to curb his sudden suspicion.

Obi-Wan breathes-- really breathes, takes in a long, deep inhale, and releases it after a second or two, the air shuddering on his exhale.

It’s like a weight has settled over Obi-Wan’s shoulders, keeping him down.

When he speaks, it’s in a quiet voice, just a little above a mutter. “I don’t want to lie to you...” Just when Anakin is about to ask, he swallows another breath and continues, rushed. “I have to fake my death and I wasn’t supposed to tell you. But I can’t-- I can’t do that to you...”

Anakin is stunned speechless. He’s not sure what exactly he expected, but it wasn’t that.

“I can’t tell you anything else,” Obi-Wan continues, on half-deaf ears. “Just know when I die tonight, it’s not real... I’m fine, it’s part of a mission.”

“Tonight?!” Anakin asks, tone strangled as he snaps out of his stupor. “You waited until the _day of_ to-- you were going to--”

The guilt is clear on Obi-Wan’s face. “I’m- I’m sorry, I couldn’t...” he swallows.

“ _Why_ can’t you tell me? I get the rest of the mission, but why would you let me think you’re dead?!”

Again, Obi-Wan swallows past the lump in his throat. “You’re closer to me than anyone else, Anakin.” He admits, voice strained. “Deaths can be faked, and mine would be suspect in _any_ case. The public-- and our enemies-- will look to your reaction to confirm the validity of my death. We thought... if you were convinced... then everyone would be.”

It makes sense, but that doesn’t appease Anakin at all.

“So what was all this?” he asks, baffled. “Were you just trying to make me miss you as much as possible?”

At the question, Obi-Wan blushes, his tear-ruddy cheeks melting into a softer pink, the color stretching to the tips of his ears and down to his chest.

“... it was meant to be a... parting gift, of sorts? We won’t see one another for a while... but I realize now, that it was, perhaps, ill-conceived...”

And honestly, that’s a kind of sweet idea. And it is _exactly_ like Obi-Wan to try to do something drastic and indulgent like this rather than try to express his guilt and love in some other, healthier way. Perhaps one that uses words.

Sometimes, Anakin wonders how his Master managed to cheat his way onto the Council, he is still such an idiot about some things.

“Ill-conceived is right,” Anakin finally agrees, forcing himself to calm down. If Obi-Wan is going on some top secret, undercover mission and they won’t be in contact for a while, he doesn’t want to spend their last evening together being mad. “Well, this changes things a little. You’re coming back to my apartment with me, I wanna spend every second with you until...” something hits him, “gods above, Obi-Wan, is that why you’re taking Ahsoka and I to Dex’s tonight?”

“Yes?”

Anakin can keep his cool. He can. “Okay, until we go to Dex’s, then.”

“You aren’t angry?” Obi-Wan asks him, his voice on the edge of relief and worry.

Anakin fixes him with a pointed look. “I’m not happy,” he points out, though it should be obvious. “But I’m not gonna waste our last few hours before you disappear for who-knows-how long being mad at you. I’ll yell at you when you get back.”

Obi-Wan’s expression is a dry mixture of relief and bemusement. “I look forward to it,” he deadpans.

Anakin rolls his eyes, reaching over to pick up Obi-Wan’s tunic and helping him pull it back over his head so they can leave. “And then, when I’m done yelling at you, you will owe me a _lot_ of make-up sex.”

The elder Jedi brightens up at that, a smile finding its way back to his face. “Now that, I really _am_ looking forward to.”

Anakin smiles as well, unable to really stay mad at Obi-Wan anyways, not when he’s so hopelessly in love with him.

He may be going, but Anakin knows that he’ll come back to him-- Obi-Wan is one of the best Jedi in the order, and possibly the best by far when it comes to undercover missions. He’ll come back, safe and whole, however long it takes.

And in the meantime, he’ll give Obi-Wan something to remember.

**Author's Note:**

> So glad that Obi-Wan didn't keep his secret and then let Anakin think he'd died, sending Anakin into a fit of rage so he hunts down and kills hardeen, then realizes he just killed Obi-Wan and can't live with himself. That definitely wasn't the original plan, nope. We really dodged a bullet there, hahaha.
> 
> Thanks for reading! If you wanna request anything from me, prompts are open in my askbox over at [my tumblr](https://www.coldishcase.tumblr.com).


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